


Beacon in the Darkness

by Viridian_Fox



Category: RWBY
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, American author, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Covers the first three seasons, Dark Past, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Neurodiversity, Original Grimm, POV Alternating, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Will include metric measurements in end notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian_Fox/pseuds/Viridian_Fox
Summary: Viridian hasn't ever thought he'd be where he was right now. Yet, here he was. No, he wasn't back in Menagerie training under his blacksmith father. No, instead, he was here in Vale. More specifically, Beacon Academy. Far from home and about to enter into one of the most dangerous professions known to both Humans and Faunus: becoming a Huntsman. All because he chose to be.How was he to know that everything he once knew would change entirely? How could he have known he was immersing himself in something far larger than anything he could have ever foreseen?





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:  
> I wasn't entirely certain that I wanted to do this. "This" being putting forward my ideas and story for the public to read and critique. However, I'm glad I did, because I really wanted to share this. I wanted to share my ideas and conceptions in the hopes that readers would enjoy them, and maybe even share them. And as an author, I am always willing to take whatever criticisms, advice, comments, questions, and anything else that may arise from my writing.
> 
> That being said, I do not own, represent, or in any way am affiliated to the RWBY team, crew, or any other position that dictates the show officially. All rights and show concepts belong to them. The only things I own are: my original characters, weapon ideas, concepts, and names, and my original characters' backstories.
> 
> All sensitive topics will be well-researched and respectful to those whom it may concern. That being said, most of the sensitive topics will not be in vivid detail. Instead, they will be touched upon in conversation only. Only the upmost respect is intended to those it may concern. I only want to do right by those whom it may be relevant.
> 
> I thank everyone who may be interested in my work. And any comments, questions, or concerns are highly encouraged.

A boy of sixteen sat at the desk. He was handsome, roughly five feet eight inches tall, chocolate brown haired with chocolate brown eyes with hints of russet brown. His most striking features, however, were his vibrant green bangs, that seemed too real to be simply dyed; and slanting from the right side of his forehead to his left cheek, were five scars, claw marks.

It's was early in the morning, the faintest gleam of morning sun on the horizon. Vale's mountain range stood in the distance, tall and stoic; dense forests lay sprawled out before the ranges.

Before him sat a man, grey haired, but still young and handsome despite his age; glasses on his face, along with a smile; and a coffee mug in hand.

Steam was wafting up from the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies; they smelled delicious, but that detail couldn't distract him from the nervousness and anxiety he felt at the moment. His eyes would occasionally dart around the room, taking it all in. They darted to and fro, rarely to a spot as close to the eyes of the man before him before flicking away. The silence between them was awkward, but he could tell there was no animosity or any other negativity sewn into it. His fox tail swung idly back and forth, hackles raised, as they often were in situations like these.

"Viridian, I must say that I am sorry for what happened to you," the man started.

The teenager, Viridian, flinched. It... it wasn't pleasant to think about. The mere mention of it brought him back to the Menagerie hospital, where he'd stayed for an extended time in the intensive care unit. It brought back the searing pain in his face. And it make him gag on the memory of pungent antiseptic. In response to the memories being dragged to the surface his body shivered involuntarily, despite him doing his best to hinder the action.

"Professor Ozpin... I know that my parents told you what happened to me. But, can you promise me something?" Viridian questioned.

"Of course, Viridian." Professor Ozpin said, intrigued to know what he was about to swear to.

"Could you please, not tell anyone what you know about me? It's redundant, I know. But can you leave it to me, to tell anyone, when I feel ready?"

"Viridian... above all else, I want you to know that you are safe here at Beacon. I will never tell anyone anything you don't want me to. I know what happened in Menagerie... But I'm curious, why would you enroll into my school, of all places, to become a Huntsman?" Professor Ozpin implored.

Reaching forward, Viridian took one of the cookies, noting that it was still hot.

"Professor... My own face is a reminder of those four days..." Viridian gestured to the five scars, running across his face.

"I will never be able to take back what was done to me... I want to get back what I lost. I want to be able to help myself- at least this once- where I couldn't help myself," Viridian answered, taking a bite of the cookie.

"Although, fighting Grimm and helping people in need is a nice perk," Viridian added between chewing.

Professor Ozpin could only laugh.

"But let me tell you something," he began, stopping to make sure he had the Professor's full attention, "I didn't spend two years of my life training just to be told no and turned away as soon as I'd gotten my foot in the door. I didn't go out and hunt down Grimm alongside my sister for Menagerie just to fail when I've gotten so close. And I know you have the recordings of how we pulled it off." His eyes were no longer the warm chocolate they had been. No, instead they held a certain fire within, a fire that spoke of a challenge.

It was true. It wasn't unheard of for the drones that patrolled the sky to record Huntsmen and Huntresses killing Grimm. Though, usually, the recordings were subject to belonging to whatever Kingdom they'd been recorded in, and usually needed granted permission to be used outside of said Kingdom.

Wordlessly, and with the most neutral face Viridian has ever seen someone pull off, the Professor tapped the desktop with his index finger. The surface blinked to life and patiently awaited the Professor as he tapped some master codes into a digital keyboard presented by the desk. Within less than a second, video clips of him and his sister sprang to life, sitting stationary until the Professor chose to play them. He glances to Viridian, who waves his hand giving him permission to start the clips. A vocal command is given by Professor Ozpin, and the technology leaps to accommodate his words. The video changes, its focus taking on only Viridian's side of the skirmish between him and three Will o' the Wisps, an unusual type of Grimm, in that they're partly insectoid, and yet gaseous.

The Professor asks him several questions, pausing the video here and there to let Viridian respond. They're what one would expect: "Was it hard for you to take these three Grimm on? How did you prepare to do so? How long?" Questions like that. His answers leave the Professor humming in thought.

And it's with the same poker face that he shuts down the desktop, until a small smile has grown on his face.

"I think that given your extensive self-training, and how your transcripts have nothing wrong with them," the man went on to say, "that you'll do just fine here at Beacon. So long as you can pass the Initiation." He ended with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm American, I'll include a metric measurement for Viridian's height.  
> He's 172.72cm.


	2. Protective Big Sister

The door opened quietly, quietly enough that the girl waiting outside hadn't registered its opening. "He said he's ready for you", came Viridian's voice once he exited the room, cookie in hand. "Okay. Wish me luck," she responded while heading for the door. Wherever Ozpin was, he wasn't there now, no matter where she looked. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to just get it over with and made her way towards the desk and chair to wait for Ozpin to return.

Gazing out the window, she could see everything far below. The sun had risen further up over the horizon showering everything further with a golden hue. Plains and forests lay sprawled out far off in the distance below. Plumes of color and different shades accentuated it all.

Looking out upon the world below left her oblivious to the man that had stepped up to stand beside her. As a result she nearly leapt out of her skin when he'd cleared his throat.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He broached, extending a hand all-the-while. "I'm Professor Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon Academy," he introduced himself as he patiently waited for her to recover from her momentary shock and extend her own hand to shake his in a firm handshake. Releasing her hand he gestured behind him towards the solitary desk behind them.

She was seventeen unlike her brother, but one could wager a guess that there were several months between them. Standing up, she would reach five feet and four inches. Her hair was chocolate brown, highlighted by auburn, in an [intricate up-do](https://66.media.tumblr.com/df96e606e0d6e637ec27d8b1b558803f/tumblr_pud3mjKDuz1wrlfvjo1_500.jpg). Her face was devoid of any makeup, as she didn't really like wearing it. She had no problem keeping her gaze locked with the Professor's. There she sat, waiting to be questioned, as her brother had done before her. Viridian had told her: quite frankly, the Professor was kind and gentle, and seemed to know how to assess others. That did nothing to soothe her nerves, however. So there she sat, timid and shy, awaiting questions. There she sat; wedged into the chair in such a way that the chair's back dug into her turtle shell back.

She sat at the same table. The same, still-hot cookies sat on the table.

"Miss Watercress, tell me, why are you here? I understand why Mr. Foxglove is here, your parents explained it quite thoroughly. But I'm curious as to what you have to gain from being here with him. That's not to say that I don't look forward to seeing what you can do while you're enrolled here," the professor started.

"My parents asked me to watch over him. You know what he went through. I'm here to protect him. I'm his sister, and I wasn't able to help him when he needed us most. Now I can. He genuinely wants to do this. So I want to, too," Echium answered politely, hands folded in her lap.

"Do you though? He has plenty of reason to want to be here. You on the other hand-" he tapped the same commands into the desktop, summoning the video clips, giving a different vocal command that brought up only the clips of her. "Based on your actions, you've trained just as hard. If I may, I think that there is more to you than just that, though. Whether you realize it, or not, your transcripts shows that you aren't average. For someone who grew up outside of the kingdoms, you met all the requirements, which is saying something, since you've had no formal training. That goes for Mr. Foxglove, as well," Ozpin stated.

"I want to protect Viridian. He's my little brother, and I couldn't protect him when he needed it. I... I do want to become a huntress, but I care more about Viridian's safety." Echium added, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap.

"I understand. As long as you can endure the Initiation, I don't see a reason to bar you from enrolling into my school," Ozpin asked, changing the topic.

"I think I can handle myself," she said with an air of bravado, reaching forward to grab a cookie, hitting the play button with the other.

The video started within an instant, showing her escapade into a subterranean lagoon, and the ensuing battle with a Light Fright, a Grimm reminiscent of an angler fish with amphibian legs. For the most part he stayed silent, which only served to wear at her confidence. His face remained neutral as he took in what the video had to offer. He hummed in consideration once the video came to an end.

"As long as you can perform as well as you did with this-" he nodded in the direction of the desktop that awaited a new command. "I am curious to know what your time here will be like." He concluded.

…

They descended from the tower and out across the school grounds, Ozpin leading the way. Behind him, Echium couldn't help but fidget. What had she done wrong? She couldn't beat down the feeling that she'd somehow done something wrong. Ozpin wasn't an easy man to read, that much was certain. However, she'd give anything to know that she hadn't done anything wrong. She needed to know that she could ensure her place at Beacon, as long as she could pass the Initiation.

Viridian's hand on her shoulder brought her to a somewhat calmer state of mind, but she still felt uneasy. Viridian was always good at reading her, but she didn't know if she should let it slip that she was as scared as she was. It took some concentration, but she managed a small smile and a whispered, "I'm okay. Promise," to placate his questioning gaze.

She barely registered that they had stopped outside the ballroom building. Grasping the door handle, Ozpin opened the door, moving aside to let them pass. Leaving them to get settled in, Ozpin departed, with one last farewell. Before he stopped in his tracks.

He turned around to assure them: "Please know that, if you need anything. Anything at all, my door is always open," he nodded to the tower office before continuing, "to both of you." 

Hopefully, if she could survive the Initiation, she would get the chance to follow him up on that offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Echium is five feet four inches tall.  
> Converted, she's 162.56cm.
> 
> Also, when I refer to Echium's up-do, I'm specifically referring to the fourth hairstyle in the top row (from left to the right); because I honestly have no idea what it's truly called..


	3. The Shining Beacon

New students rambled around, searching here and there, for where they should go. Returning students strolled, taking the day with ease, and enjoying their return to school for the first day of the new school year. Echium and I sat in one of the empty benches overlooking the crowds. We were excited, to say the least.

"You alright, Echium?" I asked, looking over to my sister, gauging her expression for any anxiety. I knew for a fact that she wouldn't ever admit she was terrified. But I knew she was. She was practically a walking statue earlier. She'd been stiffer than a board after we'd came down from Beacon tower. I didn't think Professor Ozpin was that scary.

"Yeah. Why?" She responded, a lock of hair falling out of place as she fully turned to me. 

"Just curious." I answered. "You scared for tomorrow?"

"Aren't you?" she countered with a challenging smirk on her face.

"A little." I murmured back.

Truly, I was terrified, too. This wasn't like the one or two, or even the rare pack of Grimm we had helped take care of back home in Menagerie. We only did what our instincts told us to do then. I wouldn't doubt it if Echium knew how I really felt. And even moreso, if she felt the same way. We may not be biologically related, but we've always been able to tell when something was wrong with the other.

Audible humming permeated the air, stopping my thoughts. It sounded close. Unsurprisingly, it was coming from a student somewhere.

Turning our heads, we saw a young girl with sun tanned skin. By the looks of her she was around our age. With medium blonde hair. Two inverted braids on the left side were pulled into a high ponytail with the rest of her hair that fell to her waist. A pair of crescent-shaped blades that seemed to be collapsed for carrying rested around her waist. She wore knee length white boots with chains adorning the shins, along with faded light blue leggings with sewn in patches on the knees. Similarly, she wore a white double breasted peacoat with lilac trimming.

Not a single feature that could be seen could be that of a Faunus. She had no tail, no fur, no scales, no retracted claws. Not even a pair of non-human ears. Something seemed off about this girl, I mused. She seemed... different. Not bad different. But different nonetheless.

She stopped humming, instead proceeding to rhythmically tap the side of her leg almost in a soothing manner. She even went so far as to to lick her lips every so often, in a similar fashion.

My sister has always been the more social one out of the both of us. Which made sense, when one knew she spent most days down by the ocean market, helping our mom get the fabrics she needed for her work as a seamstress and tailor. I, on the other hand, spent most days with our blacksmith father in his workshop, helping him with many of the custom designs and upgrades commissioned by visiting Huntsmen and Huntresses.

"What's your name?" asked Echium turning to face the girl and to start a conversation.

"Niveos. Niveos Nemesia," she answered. The tapping persisted.

"I'm Echium Watercress, this is my brother, Viridian Foxglove," Echium replied, gesturing to herself then poking me in the chest.

"You think it's true, what some students are saying? That for team formation, whoever you first make eye contact with during initiation will be your partner for the next four years at Beacon? At least, the older students said so. I don't know whether or not to believe them," she said as she removed her holstered weapon before moving to sit down next to us on the bench. With it unholstered, it seemed to be a staff of some sort, albeit one with large crescent blades on each end.

"I hope I get someone nice to be my partner. I don't want a jerk. That'd be the worst. Ooh, I hope they have a sense of humor... my parents never really got my jokes," she said more to herself than to us.

"Hey, Niveos, are you alri-"

"How many robberies does that make? Three? Four?" a new voice interrupted me before I could finish.

"Robberies? What robberies?" Echium asked, face painted with confusion at the turn in conversation. 

"Oh! You mean the ones we heard about on the airship? I think it was four? Someone named Torchwick, I think. But I can't really remember, because Professor Goodwitch interrupted with her speech," Niveos answered with a look of intrigue on her face, spurred into the new conversation by the stranger.

A boot followed by another suctioned themselves to the bench's back; the wooden surface glowed black and purple, the trace of gravity dust at work. A quiet, yet persistent whir seemed to emanate from them. The three of us simultaneously craned our heads to face the source of the thuds that interrupted our conversation. Despite gravity being a constant force and being a fact of life, there was someone, a student, standing at a ninety degree angle on the back of the bench. Beside me Niveos let out a squeak of disbelief. It's not often one sees another person defy gravity with a pair of gravity dust boots.

A click of some sort and a thud sounded afterwards, as the newcomer took back to the ground in a back-flip. Now they stood in front of us seemingly content with their display, taupe brown hair pointing to the side in individual spires. He had tawny brown skin and a handsome face. His whole body was covered with body armor, save for his forearms which held impressive bracers. The ends of a pair of wrist blades jutted out of their compartments in the bracers metal. Running the length of each bracer and in between each blade was the nose of a rifle. Along the side of his right hand bracer was a touch screen. And circling the end of both bracers nearest his biceps was a ring of ammunition. A long scarf, draped itself over his right shoulder. Its length was gradient. The length coiled around his neck started out as as a vibrant emerald green then blended into a metallic gold as it reached its end a good few inches above his ankles. A golden eagle, in what looked like [tribal art](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c139d68c54db6ebbce78bdc1cc3d1792/tumblr_pta1rtYLVS1wrlfvjo1_540.jpg), was depicted at its end, like the emblems worn by Hunstmen and Huntresses. A fan of cream and golden brown eagle feathers protruded from his tail bone. He was a Faunus.

"Sorry. My bad. I didn't mean to. It just happens sometimes- the noises and hands- Sorry-" Niveos said in fragmented sentences before getting up and swiftly making her way to the main hall, clearly embarrassed and ashamed. Deftly grabbing her weapon she made off. Her lilac knee-high boots making their tell-tale clacks as she trotted to the main hall, her hair swishing from side to side. Her arms were wrapped securely around herself, her fingers back to tapping rapidly.

"No, wait. It's okay, really. It was my fault. I shouldn't have shown off," the stranger placated, voice obviously male and with a rich timber. His indigo eyes looking to Niveos before glancing back to us.

"Yeah, don't worry Niveos. You're fine," I replied easily. "Not your fault his defying gravity made you uncomfortable," I added.

My accidental snark didn't save me from the sudden elbow that found itself plunged into my ribs. I glared at my sister as I massaged my likely bruised rib cage.

"What was that for?" I demanded, rubbing the impacted area.

"Ease up on the sass", my sister responded, not the least bit sorry. "Wait. Hellebore? Hellebore Chrysochlorous?" She asked suddenly.

"Yes. Why? Who's asking?" the stranger answered with questions of his own.

"It's us, you fruitcake! Cousin Viridian and cousin Echium! It hasn't been that long since we've seen each other! Or has it?"

That last bit was directed towards me. When had we last talked while being able to see each other? A year ago? But at that time he was hoping to enlist into the Atlas military forces. But really? 'Fruitcake'? Chancing a glance towards Niveos, I could tell she was definitely confused with the change of the conversation's course. I really couldn't blame her. Really all I could do was shrug my shoulders.

"Weren't you going into the military? D'you change your mind or something?" I asked tuning back in, curiosity almost palpable.

He visibly winced. Obviously something had happened. "Yeah, about that... I may or may not have -" He said, stereotypically rubbing the back of his neck out of insecurity.

**"Will all students please report to the amphitheater. " ******

"C'mon. They're waiting for us", Echium said, taking note of the few students who weren't yet in the main hall, rushing to the doors.

"Wow, sis. Always in a rush." I teased as we ran to the doors.

"Shut it. You made us late," she tossed back.

"I did not," I reflected back over my shoulder.

Bursting through the doors, I was shocked to see just how full the hall was. Students filled the great hall, packed loosely here and there, yet tightly in other places. Conversations carried on throughout the hall, even with a change in setting. Snippets of scattered dialogue filtered throughout the crowd. I noticed Niveos tentatively stepped inside, before stopping not far from the door. She held her weapon at her side, seemingly left unholstered in her race to join us. I winced, waving at her to get her attention before mouthing _sorry_. She waved me off placatingly with her free hand, before turning her attention to something behind my head. "Ahem, I'll... keep this brief. You have traveled here today in search of knowledge; to hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy; in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this. But your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only take you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."

Looking up at the man, he looked nothing like the caring man I'd met earlier that morning. Something about that tiny, and almost offhanded speech Ozpin gave... it gave me chills and sent anxiety spiraling down into my stomach.

"You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your Initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed." Professor Goodwitch concluded. Her words cemented the scenario even further, especially with her cut-and-dry demeanor.

Everyone broke away, the throngs of all the bodies shuffling out to find wherever this 'ballroom' was, leaving Hellebore, my sister and I alone to find our course. Niveos had seemed to disappear along with the rest of the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to include an autistic character because they aren't often written about. I consulted multiple sources, including autistic people themselves, to best learn how to write an autistic character. I did not want to stereotype them, nor do I want them to just come off as a poorly-handled gimmick. That said, I am not autistic, nor will her character be reduced to just being autistic. I should not, nor would I attempt to write a story about being autistic. 
> 
> I thank you for your support and interest. If there's anything I could do better, then please feel free to let me know.


	4. An Unofficial Slumber Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for the Initiation, the four of them: Echium, Viridian, Hellebore, and Niveos gear-up and ready themselves for the Initiation. But, just what is the Initiation, and are they even ready for it, whatever it may be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to apologize, a lot has come up in my life that kept me from updating this, but, safe to say, I'm not letting this die. Honestly, I've been busy with college classes and haven't had time between my classes and my job, but I've been brainstorming ideas and fine tuned my outline and everything.
> 
> Regarding this chapter, I've included the morning after the enrolling students sleep in the ballroom as well as the students eating before the Initiation. Personally, I feel that describing everyone's battle gear was the hardest part. Or, at least those the parts that could have been better. Also, just to be clear, my OC Niveos Nemesia is autistic/neurodivergent. I'm adding that in as a note, because autistic/neurodivergent characters are not cookie-cut; they do not act as if they're checking off a checklist. 
> 
> I'm going to be really blunt here, but I suck at summarizing. I'm going to include a chapter note at the end to clear things up, but I'm not going to lay everything out on the table.
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your patience-  
> \- Viridian_Fox

Shadows danced their way throughout the hall, mingling in corners and behind sleeping bodies. All around, sleeping bags and mats were splayed out, awaiting the return of their occupants for the night. Bags and suitcases stood as sentries, marking the hall as their temporary abode. Miscellaneous conversations drifted through the air on murmurs, quiet enough to let the slumbering students to sleep. The glow from the arranged chandeliers hanging above from the ceiling channeled an ambience of warmth and comfort.

I sat in my sleeping bag; green in color matching my vibrant bangs. In my hands were a pen and paper, the beginnings of a letter to our parents back home. The CCT towers in each of the four kingdoms allow communication between the kingdoms. On the other hand, though, Menagerie has no CCT towers, which only left handwritten letters and paid messengers to work with.

Beside me Echium laid in her own cyan sleeping bag because that was her favorite color. She watched the other students avidly, flicking her eyes to and fro as she raked in all she could from being in Vale; being at Beacon no less.

It was all so new, especially where we'd never been outside of Menagerie except to the few surrounding islands. Yet here we were, enrolled into Vale's most prestigious school for upcoming Huntsman and Huntresses.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I just wanted to let you know that we made it to Beacon safely. Finding Beacon Academy wasn't that hard, the place is huge, and everyone knows where it is. The students are nice too. Well... the ones we met are. And we even met cousin Hellebore while we’re here. Did you guys know anything about his enrollment into Beacon? He didn't tell us what he's doing here, and not in the Atlas military. I have a bad feeling about what made him enroll into Beacon..._

_Whatever it is... You should ask his mom She's still designing technology up in Atlas, right? -I know so many questions, but I've always been naturally inquisitive and curious. Sue me. -_

_We also met a girl, a student here. Or, well, at least I think she is. I mean... she's here in the hall, so she must be. Her name's Niveos Nemesia. At least, I think that’s how she’d spell it; I’ll have to ask her. She seems nice enough. I think you'd like her. We talked about the string of robberies that some guy's been committing. Don't worry, we're safe._

_Echium is having the time of her life. She thinks everything is so "new and different" -I think that's how she put it-. She's here with me, chin in her hands as she watches the other students. It’s pretty amusing._

_I miss you guys. I'm sorry. But I have to do this._

_Your loving son,_

_Viridian Foxglove_

"Is that Blake? Viridian, is that Blake?" Echium chimed in, startling me out of my sealing the envelope. Looking up, she was right. The once familiar head of black hair, now adorned with a bow, walked past candelabra in one hand and a book in the other. "She looks like Blake, right?"

Recognition blossomed in my mind, at the very forefront of my cranium. She looked like Blake, but that was years ago, and she'd taken to wearing a bow, for some reason. We'd briefly met when her father had become the Chieftain of Menagerie. The majority of Menagerie population were there, including my sister and I and our parents. While her parents had stayed in Menagerie, Blake had seemingly disappeared. And while Blake was gone, her parents had almost doubled-down on taking care of the people in Menagerie. We never found out exactly why Blake was gone, or why her parent's may have been the best leaders we'd known in the time we lived in Menagerie.

Her footsteps were swift and deliberate as she continued to her destination: a table by the wall. Match in hand, a far too perfect poker face screwed itself to her face. She lit her candelabra and waved out the matchstick, before taking a seat to read. With one last gaze in our direction, she tuned out the physical world.

I looked back down at the letter gripped in my hand. I quickly and discreetly picked up my pen again, before adding to the letter.

_P.S. Blake Belladonna is here, too._

I put it down in favor for the filled-out envelope beside me on the sleeping bag. Licking the seal and placing the stamp, I sealed it closed to be delivered the coming morning. Looking to Echium, I see her give me a half shrug accompanied by a sad look.

. . .

He doesn't remember falling asleep. Then again, he doesn't suppose you're supposed to.

But he does remember the snippets of the dreams that plagued his sleep. Claws... Hair turning green... Exhaustion... Pain... Training. Exhaustion makes it hard to move, like he tossed and turned all night.

Silently, he's grateful to Echium when he felt her hand jostles his shoulder until he was coherently awake. Looking around, they were the first ones who were awake. -Of course, they were-. It wasn't unlike Echium to wake up extra early, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Getting up, the hard wood floors are sturdy under his feet and cold enough to wake him up further. Without paying mind to it, He noted the slumbering figures that littered the floor. Some of whom were beginning to stir but remained no closer to reaching the waking world. Just as he thought, they were the first awake. Halfway across the hall, Hellebore lay casually sprawled out in a pine green sleeping bag. And by the corner, Niveos lay curled up in her ivory white sleeping bag as if it were a cocoon, tightly wound up within.

Moving back to their bags, they both took out their individual battle gear, their bath towels, hair products, then their weapons. They'd kept their weapons even though they'd been assigned lockers the evening before. They just didn't really feel like parting with them just yet.

They parted ways for the respective locker rooms to get changed and ready for the day. Professor Goodwitch had said the women's locker room was to the right, right?

. . .

Clean white tiles pressed themselves up against his feet as he padded back to the mirrors and sinks lining the wall. Towel around his waist, and towel drying his hair he inspected his reflection.

Taut, itchy flesh paved its way across his countenance. The five clear and deliberate claw marks still scar his face. It's not a new sight to behold, yet he never gets over the shock of seeing it. As if one day when he wakes up, the mirror won't have the current reflection it shows. He knows it's a wild fantasy to hope for such a thing, but the hope is still tangible. He _hates_ it. _If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then he is not the beholder_ , he muses. _Ugh_ , he hates when he starts thinking like that, thinking so abstractly.

A sigh of defeat passes unhindered through his lips as he resigns to pat his drying hair into its usual position. _To hide them_ , he reasons. Too many people have deemed his face uncomfortable to look at, even scary in some cases. And that's not even counting the rare pitiful glances to the treads that mar his face from the right upper corner of his forehead and across his nose to his left cheek. The lines running at their sharp angle always burn when he first wakes up. But he knows as the day goes on, the tingling will cease and at least feel like regular skin. He doesn't remember exactly what happened, no matter how hard he tries; but, rather, parts of the day he got them. The doctors called it retrograde amnesia. He remembers the emotions, some things from the day before. But nothing from _what had happened to him_. They said he was lucky. _Lucky? Just how lucky was he if he couldn't remember what landed him in the hospital for four days?_ He hated not knowing; hated the looks everyone back in Menagerie had for him.

He moves for the bottles of medication he brought in with him, plops a pill from each into his open palm then pops them dry. One’s an anti-anxiety prescription, the other is an antidepressant. ‘To help’ rolls around in his head, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at the memory of his therapist writing out the prescriptions. He huffs out a breath as he looks back at the mirror.

His unnaturally green bangs hang level with his eyes. That's something else entirely. He was once a natural brunet, until... _No. Can't think about that now_ , he chastises himself, toothbrush in his mouth with foam truly making him look rabid. That train of thought will only leave him yearning for the past. He shimmies into his underwear as he brushes his teeth. He pulls his tail through the hole in the back. He wagered that the other kingdoms didn’t have as many brands of clothing suited to Faunus.

Toothpaste in the sink and mouthwash in his mouth, he reaches for his hairbrush to brush the tangles out of his fox tail. Sleep often does that: misshapes the transitioning brown to orange to white fur. The tangles pull free and the fur looks better than it had. One last look in the mirror and expelled mouthwash in the sink, he turns to the pile of battle gear behind him.

The meadow green sleeveless vest hugs his torso snugly, leaving his bare chest visible- a little way to make his self-esteem return through confidence in his physically fit and defined body. The pair of brown leather belts loop around his waist forming an X where the silver belt buckle holds his gray pants up. Attached to the two belts are three bigger-than-a-fist pouches. The left pouch is empty for now, the right is for Dust, and the center one holds his wallet and scroll. The light blue accents on his pants add a pleasant flair to his athletic legs in a trio on each pant leg moving from his upper outer thigh to his lower inner thigh. The boots resemble a fox's paw in pattern and color. And forest green ribbon-like arm wraps crisscross his forearms from his wrist to elbow.

Emblazoned on the lower back of the vest is Viridian’s symbol: a [tribalistic fox, fox tail, and foxglove flower](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0cb49412cf7aff8c24dbb447bbfd6ce9/tumblr_pta1rtYLVS1wrlfvjo3_540.jpg). He’d had a friend back in Menagerie design it for him. Technically, it counted as a commission for both him and his sister seeing as how they’d both gotten their own emblems. Maybe he should write back to her, tell her they made it in?

A weight draped itself across his upper back and he liked it, it was comforting: his sai, "Dolor” and “Voluptas" forged by his own father in his forge back home. They rested in the crisscrossed holster on his back sewn into the vest. Both Echium and him had designed their weapons themselves, but their father had helped them forge them. Etched [sharp designs](https://66.media.tumblr.com/89379d6707f12cbd66c801261f3e2d21/tumblr_pt9vaanKjv1wrlfvjo1_640.jpg) run down the [monouchi](https://66.media.tumblr.com/18525fcee0fe67fb739f9d45ae184606/tumblr_pt9vfsqwBg1wrlfvjo1_400.png). They were a parting gift.

His eyes cloud over with the beginning of tears when he remembered seeing their father cry when they had said goodbye. His chest began to feel tight, constricted even, when he thought back to his parent's reaction to his departure. He didn't have the time to break down over what he'd left behind; maybe later, but not now. Not when he had to prepare for the Initiation. With a deep breath that flew from his body in a drawn-out puff he reached for the vials of Dust he’d grabbed along with everything else.

The glass vials were smooth in his hands, and the same size as the tsuka of his sai. The pastel yellow dust inside the one he held barely shifted as he passed it between his fingers. Counting the one he had in his hand he had six altogether: two filled with green Dust, two filled with snow blue Dust, and one other filled with pastel yellow Dust. The pastel yellow and green dust weren't conventional- far from it actually- but it's what they had in Menagerie. It actually made sense once one took into account the fact that the Schnee Dust Company didn't export to Menagerie. That coupled with the fact that there were countless types of Dust left him with his current options. The pastel yellow Dust was Wind Dust. The green Dust was Earth Dust. And the snow blue Dust was Ice Dust. Emblazoned on the outside of every vial was a stamp of white paint depicting the element inside.

When all’s said and done, he looks to the mirror one last time -making to avoid his face- before he grabs his stuff and leaves the way he came.

. . .

Finished with blow drying and brushing her hair, and putting her dangle earrings in, Echium slips on her outfit. It’s like a dive suit but thinner and hugs her silhouette. Camouflage patterned with all shades of blue, the suit matches an ocean. She secures the velcro that connects the wraps connected to the outfit’s detached left leg that circle her leg several times. The outfit cuts off at the upper left hip exposing most of her leg. The outfit’s design also has a hole in the back to fit her turtle shell back. Slipping on a pair of matching beige elbow gloves, she moves to finish getting ready.

The finishing touch is tying the matching beige sash with an [ocean plait mat](https://66.media.tumblr.com/6ded1323336010742ac067a9ed745606/tumblr_pta1cqSLpU1wrlfvjo1_400.jpg) leaving the ends loose. The way the sash is cut lets it cover her fashionably and modestly. Embellishing the sash is [Echium’s emblem](https://66.media.tumblr.com/b4d1be013adc9cd6f36ebab79b2ebc7c/tumblr_pta1rtYLVS1wrlfvjo2_500.jpg): a tribal sea turtle accentuated by the flowers that make her name.

The whole thing was designed by their tailor mother. And even though Echium had added her input and opinions, she couldn’t deny their mother had a certain taste that bled into her work. Their mother designed clothes for a lot of people back in Menagerie, so it wasn’t far off that she’d design her own children’s battle gear. The gear, too, was a parting gift in a way.

With her outfit out of the way, she grips her pair of fans, opening them with a flourish. She tests her grip on both one after the other making sure all seems well. Adorning the fan’s taut fabric is her emblem and a floral pattern. [Engraved filigree](https://66.media.tumblr.com/45050421fef99f3f58c0cd1488ebeab9/tumblr_pt9wmnt0CD1wrlfvjo1_1280.jpg) drapes itself across the expanse of the outer spines.

Like her brother she named her fans too, “Fluctus” and “Altum”. Viridian had been relentless in making sure they had all the makings of Hunstmen. Whether it be having personalized weapons and having full-fledged names for them, he pursued it. Weapons are an extension of ourselves, of course we need them!’ She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the memory as she folded her fans and sheathed them in the dual sheaths sewn into the lower back of the outfit.

Beside her lies her quiver, plated in gold and cyan metal plating. Instead of having a quiver strap, it has a pair of extensions that grip the rim of her turtle shell. It holds a complete set of twenty-four arrows divided into three groups of eight: they range from Ice Dust, to Mist Dust, to Water Dust: snow blue, barely visible blue, and primary blue in color, in that order. She ran a finger across the fletchings of one at random, before pulling the arrow free. In her hand rested a Mist arrow, [Judo tipped](https://66.media.tumblr.com/727bf31e88c0586a4cb88b62f84782cd/tumblr_pta271TPPH1wrlfvjo1_400.jpg) with straight fletchings.

Replacing the arrow and fixing the quiver to her back, she strides out of the locker room, taking her stuff with her.

. . .

Walking back to the hall from the locker room he sees the majority of the students beginning to wake up. Some rub their eyes, some stretch, others yawn. It is as cliché as it sounds. Carefully, he makes a path through the many students only stopping at his bag. He stows his stuff back in his bags, and finds Hellebore waving at him from the wrap of sleep. He takes a turn, through double doors that lead to the cafeteria, as they'd been instructed by Professor Goodwitch the day before.

The smell of breakfast permeates the air with pleasantry. He recognizes the aroma of pancake batter and sizzling bacon. Other scents drift around but those are the ones he recognizes. He's never liked bacon, but he enjoys pancakes. Echium sits at an empty table, one of the several that run lengthwise down the cafeteria.

The staff who're cooking are nice. Smile on her face, the woman at the window bids him good morning as he stacks his plate with some food from one of the many buffet trays laid out with options for their breakfast. He grabs one of the bottles of water nearby and heads to sit with Echium, but not without wishing the staff a good morning as well.

He has a mouth full of pancakes when Echium asks if he's ready for what the day has to offer. He doesn't hesitate to nod his head, yes.

Across from the table Hellebore takes a seat with his own plate of food. He’s dressed in the same gear as the day before, but his forearms are bare. It seems he decided to use the locker he was assigned. He sits for several moments just taking in the expansive dining hall. The sunrise filters in through the giant glass windows painting the dining hall a palette of warm colors. A small smile fits itself onto his face before turning to Echium and Viridian.

“Any reason you guys are up so early? Only early birds or the Atlas Military wake up at sunrise. ‘Least, that’s how it was in Atlas,” he said eyeing the both of them with a growing smile.

“Blame her,” Viridian joked, poking a thumb at his sister who’d just taken a bite out of her own plate of pancakes, “she couldn’t sleep in to save her life,” he joked further. Echium stopped chewing to level him with a glare that quickly lost its lethality before she rolled her eyes.

“We’ve always done this: I get up early on the weekends and she gets up on the weekdays. Don’t ask me why, ‘cause I don’t know.” He added on as he took another bite. Across from them Hellebore laughed quietly to himself at their not knowing themselves before eating himself.

“Hey, you guys mind if I sit with you?” someone called out from the buffet tables as Hellebore was going to say something else.

Looking over, Niveos slowly came walking to where they sat, waiting for their answer. Her fingers drummed against the underside of her tray with audible consecutive clacks. She must've used the assigned lockers, too, as her weapon was nowhere to be seen. Around her other students were starting to pile in; most of which didn’t really bat an eye in their direction, only heading for the buffet tables.

“Yeah, we don’t mind! Come join our insanity-” Viridian called back, waving his arm spontaneously until she sat down beside Hellebore who scooted over so she could talk with them more easily.

“Sorry, you guys are the only people I know, so far.” The clacking started to slow down but didn’t die.

“Eh, it’s alright we only know three other people here. And two of them are sitting at this table.” Echium eased her worry with a genuine smile. “Early bird or woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore?” Echium asked, curious.

“Bit of both, I like to watch the sunrise. That, and I can never stay asleep when someone else wakes up. You three weren’t the only ones up,” she said after sitting down. “Any new ideas on the Initiation? All I know is what those upperclassmen told me, and I already told you what they told me, and that wasn’t much,” she said with a final huff and small frown.

“Well, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like they’re launching us off a cliff,” Viridian said casually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Viridian and Echium's weapons are named in Latin.  
> "Dolor" and "Voluptas" translates to "Pain" and "Pleasure"; "Fluctus" and "Altum" roughly translates to "Wave" and "Crest".
> 
> Niveos Nemesia uses tapping and licking her lips as a form of stimulation, or stimming herself. Additionally, she doesn't like it when her hair isn't centered or isn't as good as she'd like it.
> 
> And since I'm American, I used feet and inches Hellebore's wrist-blades. But to be clear, they're 0.4572 meters (45.72 cm). I'm sorry that America uses the imperial system rather than the metric system. That said, I'm also sorry that I honestly can not comprehend the metric system, but that's because I never grew up with it, not the metric system itself.


End file.
